In This Video, I Show You I Am So Not The Pack Leader

Doing this little video was actually pretty fun, although I was so nervous!! So thanks Blue Violet, Heather, Angela, Kristin, Date Girl, and Joie for the great questions. I got to cover a lot of stuff in this video: marriage, SARAH, and weight issues. It is not that long. I just made it two videos to speed up the uploading process. Hope you enjoy.

1. I am laying down on my bed, on my stomach. So I'm not some crazy looking chic whose head magically floats on top of my shoulders. I'm looking a little hunch back of Norte Damey.
2. Sorry about the incessant clapping of the hands. Its a nervous tic!
3. I'm sorry Blue violet! I forgot to show you my favorite part of the house. It is my place on the couch. It even has an ass groove. Carved out by my ass. Plus it reclines.
4. Joie! I'm sorry! You will see why near the end of the video!!
5. I don't know why I said Sarah's walk was an hour and a half. It's more like 45 minutes.
6. Sarah is awful right? She looks so dead because I woke her up out of a dead sleep and I can tell she is thinking,"What is that silly human doing now?" But believe me she heard me call her.
7. And Frizz Central! I'm out of gel :)

Tales from Over Yonder Part One

This post should really be titled the Cream Cheese Wonton Invitational.

Wednesday afternoon I touched down at Orange County Airport and kissed the South goodbye. I left behind the world of Southen accents, sipping cocktails, girl talk with my mother, and laughing with friends for housework, money issues, and class. Let us talk about the class I'm taking now. This is a pass or fail class, and I'm tested on all the clinical skills we have been working on for the past year. If I don't pass even one of those skills, it is over for me, and I can't continue on with the program for six months. Making you wait six months to restart is the University's way of sending you to a cornor and telling you to think about what you did wrong. If that happens, I will storm off to my room, slam the dorm, scream I hate you, and make a plan to runaway from home, just like I used to when I fought with my mother. Because of this class, I am currently riding a rollar coaster. Some moments I feel as confident as that teenager sailing around the world by herself (minus the crazy waves) and other moments I want to jump off the 17th floor balcony because it is all too much. So the next few weeks I'll be living life in a pressure cooker. Can I go back to sipping Margaritas please?

But if you want to be as prepared as humanly possible to be put through the ringer, take a vacation first. I planned this vacation months and months ago, to spend some time with my mom. But according to my mom, I was really coming home to meet my "sister." My sister being the lab named Carly my mother recently adopted. Honestly, I am the ultimate dog person, and you guys are just lucky that everyone one of my posts isn't a picture of Sarah. But even me, a coo-coo dog lover, balked at being told a canine was my sister. The morning before I arrived, my mom took Carly to the groomer to get clean. She told the groomer that Carly was going to meet her sister today! And that her sister and she had the same color hair! And that she must be clean for her sister! But then my mom had to tell the groomer that Carly's sister was a human and not another dog. So color them surprised and a little concerned. They may just cross the street the next time they see my mom coming. Mom if you’re reading this, I’m sorry! (But she knows it is true).

My mother also has a nickname for Carly, which is Babydog. Isn't that the most humiliating nickname ever? I should know my friends call me HOFO. Adam and I also have nicknames for Sarah, like Sister Golden Hair and the Golden One. But those aren't as traumatizing as Babydog! Is the crazy dog lady trait genetic? But I ended up falling in love with this hyper, chubby, loveable pooch. I am now happy to call her my "sister." Half-sister if you want to get technical. And when I came home I told Sarah she now had a much younger Aunt.

On Saturday I road tripped down to Columbus, Mississippi. Birthplace of Tennessee Williams and my alamater, Mississippi University for Women (admitting men since 1982). Better known as MUW or The W. But most importantly, Columbus is the home of the Chinese restaurant, Peking, and they make the best cream cheese wontons on the face of the planet. They are gooey, warm, and sweet. Those wontons are made to be eaten by the Gods, but actually even the Gods aren't worthy. Just Southern Belles who love to eat are worthy. I told people the weekend trip was about seeing my college friends, but if I had to be honest, it was really all about the wontons. In fact, the first thing we did after getting together with each other was sitting our butts down at Peking. Where (I'm not even kidding) two people got wontons for us to share as appetizers, three people bought wontons for dessert, and one person even bought some to-go for the hotel later. Yes, they are that good.

Just kidding about coming just for the wontons. I was so much happier to see my college friends Anna, Jenny, Jana, Austin, and Benson. We are really close, a bond that only comes from living with one another for four years. And having nothing to do (unless you count studying) so you sit around all day and stare at each other, or make late night fast food runs. Lots of fast food runs. And it was so funny because after lunch we went cruising around town and noticed our favorite late night haunt, Taco Bell had closed. Obviously because we were no longer there to single-handedly support them. Oh the guilt, regret, and shame that comes from causing the demise of Columbus's Taco Bell. Let us have a moment of silence for the long, lost Taco Bell. Moment of silence over.

After we had properly mourned Columbus' lost of cheap soft tacos and quesadillas, we decided for old time's sake (because being 24 is really, really old) we would ride around campus. It is weird, but I'm so emotionally attached to MUW. I just feel like my experience there was amazing and I really grew into my own there. And it really was fate that I ended up there. I'm from Alabama and hadn't even heard of The W when I was in high school. One day I was just non-chantilly flipping through a college catalog, no idea what direction I wanted to go in, and my eyes landed on an ad about MUW. I had a feeling about it and just decided that it was the only place I wanted to go. The W was the only college I applied to, and even though my grades were up and down in high school due to emotional problems, I received a pretty hefty scholarship. I even look back at college with nostalgia when thinking about all-nighters, doing laundry at 3 a.m. because that was the only time the machines were empty, and the repetitive cafeteria food. Also I think my friends feel the same way. To me, that place is magical.

We drove around remembering all our crazy times. Swapping tales about Nurse Mary, the ghost that lived in our freshmen dorm, Calloway Hall (Calloway was a civil war hospital during the Civil War, the laundry room was the morgue. Soo creepy at knight). Laughing about the people who put kool-aid in the fountains. And those hurricane parties we had, when our families would send us emergency money for emergency supplies, but instead we bought cheez-its, king cake, and board games. Sometimes buying a flashlight as a after thought. That is even what we did for Hurricane Katrina! Smart, right? And the girls teased me about all the times I accidentally flashed the construction workers working on the dorm next to us at night. Plus that time when my Backyardigans kite had a run in with Charlie Brown's kite eating tree, and the kite stayed there for MONTHS.

There isn't much to do in Columbus, so after driving around campus, we decided to take a little detour to the novelty shop sex shop Fantasyland. Going to Fantasyland is kind of a rite of passage for W students. No kidding, most freshmen go there the first week they start college, just because it is the thing to do. And it is always good for some immature laughs. And we specialize in immaturity. Plus most of us, by this time, were a little tipsy, so it seemed like a good idea. The ironic thing is Fantasyland is on Highway 69 near an exit to the city of Eatonville! Guys you can't make this stuff up. And I'm only sharing about this part of my vacation because of the treasure we found there. This treasure is known as Fatty Patty. A kind of blow-up doll that is pleasantly plump. This is how she is described...."Her blood type is Ragu, her belt size is the equator and she has to iron her pants in the driveway! For that person who loves them large and in charge!" Fatty Patty really brought the lols.

After our trip down highway 69, we went to a karaoke bar. I have never sung karaoke but I've always wanted to. It is even on my lifelist! But I was also terrified to sing karaoke, but felt I could do it if I wasn't alone. Jana had offered to sing with me, but I wanted to get a third person just for good measure. But Jenny wasn't having it. So I started guilt tripping her. "Jenny if you don't sing karaoke with me you will regret it on your deathbed." But that didn't work, so I took it one step further-"I'm getting on a plane on Wednesday, and if that plane crashes, you are going to be like why of why did I not sing karaoke with Brittany last week!" Yeah I totally get that saying something like that may make me a terrible friend, probably even a terrible person. But I was pretty buzzed at this point and I was desperate. And don't forget, I'm shameless. But she still wasn't swayed by my logic! So I decided I would just go sing with Jana. Only Jana. Boooo Jenny. Jana went to give the DJ our song choice, and when she returned she had the most devious look on her face, and whispered in my ear, "You will never believe what is about to happen."

The DJ at the karaoke bar was a nice guy, who loved to sing. When no one else was singing, he was up there belting out the tunes. He looks a little like Jerry Seinfeld, and not one of his teeth point the same direction as the others. God Bless Him. So when Jana went to tell the DJ our song selection, she noticed Tommy Tutone's song Jenny (867-5309) on the screen. The wheels started turning and Jana said," My friend's name is Jenny! You have to sing it to her." So Jerry Seinfeld starts singing to Jenny and wrapping his arm around her. Jenny wants to crawl under her chair and die. And when he starts singing 867-5309, we would shout out Jenny's real phone number. Looking back that wasn't the brightest thing to do, considering there were other people in the bar. But hey it was still pretty funny. Plus it is a little karma retribution for not singing karaoke with me. And I took video evidence.

But after Jenny's forced serenade, it was time for me and Jana to take the stage. We chose Miranda Lambert's Gunpowder and Lead. And bear with me cause not only can I not sing, I was a karaoke virgin. But I had a blast doing it, and would do it again. And I love that you can hear my friend Anna in the video, talking in her cute little thick accent the whole time. And if you listen near the end, you hear the boys trying to force her to get up and sing.

The creepers at the bar really liked our performance, and I got lots of unwelcome advances. But that usually happens when we get together. Maybe because if you combine us you have the perfect woman, she has the boobs and I have the butt. Once we were driving to the store together, and the guy leaned over and LICKED the car window. It was an incredible turn on.

So now I can cross karaoke off my life list! So excited. But this post is already super long, so I thought I'd break the trip recap into two posts.

Two of These People Are Not Like The Others

A few weeks ago I found out that my cousin's band, Fire to Reason, was going out on tour, and one of their stops was in Long Beach. I was pretty excited; it would give me a chance to support my cousin. REPRESENT! My second cousin Blake (or Baby Blake as my family calls him) is only a few years younger than me. My biggest memory of Blake is going over to stay at his house when he was five and I was eight. He had just started taking some form of marital arts, and I think the first rule of martial arts is to not harm others outside of class. But he must have been a really slllllllllloooooooooooow learner because I got some swift kicks to my face. And there was also a lot of tattling (on my part), and playing Mario Paint. Which is a really weird game now that I think about it because you just sit around swatting flies. WTF? How was that even fun?

My cousin's band plays very heavy metal and screamo music. Not me and Adam's cup of tea. I love country music and show tunes and Adam is all about the 80's. So I knew I was going to get screamed at for a half of hour, but I would happily get screamed at to support Baby Blake! Tuesday evening rolled around and it was not a good evening in the life of married people. Meaning our marriage. You know how 90% of the time you are completely happy and in love with your spouse? And the other 10% of the time you want to pull out your hair (I'd pull out his but he is currently bald.....so)? Or take your husband on a trip to cage dive with the sharks....without the cage?

Adam has been really stressed about work lately, and the evening we were going to the gig, he had already been cranky and snappy with me all day long. It was like I just couldn't do the right thing or say the right thing to pull him out of it. So I kept ignoring it (recipe for disaster). I was also feeling self-conscious because I had nothing that seemed right to wear to a heavy metal concert. Going through my closet I realized that I LIKED pink a lot more than I thought I LIKED pink. Plus, none of my pants were fitting me right because I've lost so much weight, and haven't had the money or time to shop. Right now, all my pants make me look like I gained 100 lbs. So I wasn't happy with my outfit and as we were heading out the door and Adam was still being a total curmudgeon. 

Then Adam said something grumpy and annoying, and it was the last straw and I just lost it. I just wanted to have fun and be excited for the evening. He was ruining it for me. So I started to cry (I cry when I get mad, it's something I hate about myself, because people don't realize that I'm MAD and not UPSET). If it had been any other event I would have said forget it, but we had to go. So I storm out the door and he follows behind in a huff, and Sarah was looking around like what the f*** are these crazy humans doing.

We didn't talk the whole way to the bar, and I'm just thinking,"Great! Blake is going to see that we were fighting, and soon it will be going around the family that we are getting divorced. “Yes, I am a worst case scenario type of girl. I said, "Look, we just got to put this extremely stupid argument behind us and move on." That's what we did. Blake told me the event was at 8, but turns out it was really at 9 and they didn't actually show up till ten, so I guess that is rock star time? So to kill time, we watched the Lakers/Celtic game and I had way too many rum and cokes. And let me tell you guys, my drinking tolerance is way down. Because after one I was giggling, slurring my words, and taking silliness to a whole new level. My drunkenness really turned the night around for us. Because nobody can be pissed when drunk Brittany is in the house.

Finally the boys showed up and I got to spend ten minutes talking to Blake, and I was happy for him because I could tell he was just having the time of his life. No matter where his band goes in the future, I know that he will probably think about this as one of the best times in his life. It was a really small gig but people started to filter in. Apparently these people are aware of rock star time. It was a little bit of the mohawk and head banging crowd. Which I totally RESPECT but Adam and I both remarked that we felt like the old, fuddy parents coming to watch their son played.

They started to play and yes there was a lot of screaming and no I don't think I understood one word they sang. Yes there was some head banging, and some of me not knowing exactly what I was supposed to be doing. Dancing? Head Banging? So we just sat in our booth and enjoyed ourselves. Even though it wasn't my style of music, I could tell they were really talented, and we had a blast. They knew their music like the back of their hands and they were so passionate. They could make it, they really could. When we walked out, I felt like I had cotton in my ears, and I swear I still can't hear ANYTHING. Unless your yelling it through a megaphone right in my face.

Here's a little video of the performance. Of course, I picked the one moment the lead singer/guitarist was having technical difficulties to tape. And then I didn't want to try taping again because I didn't want to be like the crazy, unhip parents with the video camera. Or like the mother who picks her kid up from school in a mu mu and curlers. By the way, my cousin is on the left in the orange shirt. Poor guy was sweating all over the place.



P.S.-If you commented on my last post, I didn't reject it. Somehow they disappeared. It made me sad.

Master of the Seas

Paddle Boating Shenanigans at The Tidal Basin in Washington D.C.
Happy Birthday to the man who growing up thought a "salad" meant putting sliced cheese on his cheerios, thinks wearing Hammer Pants in public would be perfectly acceptable, and once told me not to post this video online because it was "cute" but not "Internet cute." You are my husband, my lover, my best friend, my protector, my shoulder to cry on, and my partner-in-crime. Happy 26th Birthday, you old grump.

I'm Your Biggest Fan,
This is Stan
B

The HoneyMooners

We are back from our fantastic honeymoon (plus the 15 hours we spent traveling yesterday...ugh. We were bumped to a flight five hours later than the original flight without so much as a phone call). While it was absolutely fantastic to get away for a little while, there is nothing like coming home. Especially coming home and not having to work the rest of the week or do any school work. Boo yah!
I recently bought a handy, dandy Flip video camera, and took video of almost everything we did in D.C. I got the idea to edit it and make a little video. So every time I filmed something in D.C. I would exclaim, "I have a Vision!" I really didn't have a vision, but I think it turned out great anyway.




A Few Notes on The Video:

• In the clip where Adam and I are sitting on the plane, he holds up a book. If you could hear what we were saying, you'd know he is chastising me for my airplane reading material-High on Arrival by McKenzie Phillips. Yes, I kind of picked it up for the stuff that came out during her Oprah interview, but nevertheless it was an amazing tale.
• Every morning in D.C., I got up, took a shower, and did my hair until it was perfect. Like Shirley Temple ringlets perfect. But it was so hot in D.C., so no matter what I did the frizz monster attacked! So I see some of these images on film and cringe (especially the paddle boat one). ha.
• The Donuts?! I love krispee kremes. But I never ever get to have any. One night after walking around all day, we got out of the metro on the wrong side, and I saw the krispee kreme. My plans for a sensible dinner went out the window. It was delicious and I was so excited that I videotaped it! I'm such a fat kid.
• I finished the videotape with Sarah coming home from the boarders, we really missed that spoiled little Goldie.
• The song is Miles from Minnesota by The Lower 48.

P.S.-I'll write more about the trip later I promise.

Black Holes and Revelations

The benefit of having over 8 years of your life documented on a old live journal, is that whenever you feel the need to relive your past you can. Every angst-filled, toe-cringing, my god-was-I-really-that-ridiculous moment is there in black and white (and the occasional pink sparkly text). So a few days ago, I combed through the archives looking for some old entry on a old vacation I took and stumbled across the entries following my break-up with my high school boyfriend. A year of heart break spilled over entry after entry. Part of it was slightly amusing, I mean the melodrama of it all! Part of it reminded me just how little perspective you really have as a teenage girl. But most of all, I just ached for my 18 year old self, because I remember exactly what if felt like to be the girl who once wrote, "I am positive I will never ever find anyone else to love again."

I can't tell you exactly what it was about him that made me want to be with him, but I can tell you he really made me laugh at a time in my life when I walking around with a fake smile everyday. At 14, everything was so incredibly hard. I was living in a house where I literally never spoke to my stepfather, my father was treating me horridly, and my anxiety and depression felt incredibly isolating. But once I met him, I felt less alone. Soon we were staying up every night talking till the sun rose, and on my bad days I would just call him and cry for hours without fearing judgment. And after I talked to him, I always felt better. We soon spoke of getting married in the future, and what we would name our kids (and I realize that was a little silly for our ages). And on the eve before Thanksgiving in 2002, I lost my virginity to him in my bedroom at my grandmother's house. Although I had always promised myself I would wait, we really loved each other and even after we broke up, I have never regretted it.

After we had dated 4 years, the dynamic of our relationship started to shift. I was not the same wounded girl that he had met years earlier. I was no longer depressed, no longer needy. He had always been my protector, my shoulder to cry on. He could no longer fill that role, and we started to lose who we were as a couple. Plus, he was in college, had new friends, and had less time to devote to me. At first, I really didn't mind, but as time went on, he really began neglecting me. Eventually I got tired of arguing with him, and just decided I would just take any time he was willing to give me. But once I realized I was just settling I knew it was time to move on.

So on a quiet, summer morning I broke up with him. I cried, he cried, but we both agreed it was for the best. And for the first few days I was fine, and then it hit me like a ton of bricks, and I changed my mind. But he was standing firm, and insisted we needed to not talk to each other for a while, to be able to move on. But that was hard for me. So I would promise him I wouldn't cry, if he would just call me, so he would call, and the minute I heard his voice, I would fall apart. I still had his email password, so I was obsessively reading his sent email, and he had told someone he was kind of "relieved" about the whole thing. I was devastated, but now I understand that was only male bravado.

For six months, I could not stop crying or spewing melancholy over my blog. And it probably took a year and a half before I had fully recovered. And I strongly believed I had missed my chance at lasting love, but ironies of ironies I had already met the man who would be my husband. And when Adam came into focus, he filled a niche that wasn't based on loneliness or neediness. Things just flowed so easily for us from day one. Pure and simple.

I know I get really schmoopy on here a lot when I talk about my husband. But I just love him so unabashedly. And sometimes in the really quiet moments, like when we are cuddling on the couch or just driving down the road, I feel so overwhelmed by how much I love this man. Adam has given me something I have never had my entire life-stability. And he has taught me what I never really believed, "Growing up in a broken family doesn't necessarily mean you won't have a good marriage.” I don't know what I did to deserve this kind of love, but I know how blessed I am.

A big part of me really wants to go back in time and tell my younger self that it will be ok. That her life will be so much different and brilliant than she could ever imagine But I know myself, and my younger self would never believe my older self.

About a month ago, I put together a little mini-video chronicling 2009. I did it so I would never forget what a wonderful adventure my life has turn out to be. The song is Crash Into Me by The Dave Matthews Band, and I apolgize for the picture at 3:10 (it was a big part of my year!)

Because She is too Precious for Her Own Good

I love how she keeps looking at me, as if to say please stop the madness.

London Love

I recently discovered this video from Kottke.org (one of my favorite sites). It is scenes filmed in London in 1927 (in color)! I find this video absolutely enchanting. Some of the sights filmed are London Bridge & Tower, Kensington Gardens, River Thames, St. James Palace, and White Hall. I realize life had its own unique challenges in the 20's, but it just appears to be such a simpler and more peaceful time. Make sure you check out Petticoat Lane starting around the 6 minute mark. I love watching the crowd of men all in the same hats! Also did you know they had double deckers back then?

Are You Ready for this Belly?

Have I ever told you about our God awful couches? They are couches that I had the misfortune of inheriting when we moved in together. Adam bought them used four years ago from a coworker. Maybe they were decent at one time (I doubt it), but now they are terrible. The cushions never stay put, so the longer you sit, the deeper you sink. Putting you into positions that even the best cirque du soleil performer wouldn't attempt. Heaven forbid you want to take a nap on the couch, because I guarantee you will end up with spring marks on your face & back pain like your grandma. Our couches are gluttons, constantly eating our cell phones and remote controls. Plus the couches are green, so they go with nothing in our house, especially the red chair that Adam picked out. It's Christmas year round here! We hate our couches so much, that we have told everyone not to get Christmas gifts for us, but to donate to the,"Brittany and Adam would donate their first born child to get new couches fund."

Two nights ago, Sarah had hoped onto the couch and gotten herself stuck. So Adam moved her a bit, and she ended up stuck in the position you see at the beginning of the video. And I guess we are kind of immature, because every time she wagged her tail we laughed, because it looked kind of dirty. So I shot this little video. I wish I had shot longer, because the five minutes it took to get her free were hilarious. She kept looking at us like, "What are those stupid humans doing to me?" But she just kept wagging her tail the whole time.

P.S-I don't usually laugh like that. I had been laughing so hard, I couldn't even breathe. And I think I sound like a man, so tell me I don't. Please?